


The Fall

by plaidshirtjimkirk



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Loyalty to a fault, M/M, Protective!Kondo, Toshisami, an extension of /that/ scene from s02e04, i hurt my own feelings, konhiji, sorry if i hurt yours too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 12:52:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14379045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/pseuds/plaidshirtjimkirk
Summary: It’s spring in Nagareyama when Satcho surrounds the commander and his right-hand man. Only one can escape unscathed. The other is destined to fall.





	The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [resshiiram](http://resshiiram.tumblr.com)'s prompt: "things you said when you were scared"
> 
> Thank you to [hakusaitosan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakusaitosan) for being a fab beta. <3
> 
> My intention is to make this a s2 fix-it, but I've got other projects I'm working on. So many ideaaaas~!! AGH!! lol So, this chapter is open-ended. I suppose it _could_ end there and just follow canon, but I'd really like to pick it up again in the future. Anyway, for now, I'll mark it as complete, but it may update at some point.

  
  
**.*The Fall*.**

“ _Then it’s an order! Hijikata-fukucho!_ ”  
  
It wasn’t in Hijikata’s nature to dwell on the hypothetical, or circumstances beyond his control.  
  
“ _Take the troops remaining here and rendezvous with the unit in Ichikawa._ ”  
  
…Still, it seemed safe enough to assume his demise was slated to greet him with the clash of steel against steel…that his liberation from the bindings of flesh and bone would welcome him with his face pointed toward an infinite sky. Any bitter taste of regret that lingered would drift away in the wake of life bleeding out from his wounds, as the stars beckoned him by name across a distance no longer so great.  
  
His eyes would close, the last breath would escape his burdened lungs, and he would leave satisfied, knowing it had all been worth it and that he’d done enough.  
  
By then, everything would be enough.  
  
“ _That is your assignment._ ”  
  
There was acknowledgement somewhere that this foresight so pretty of his final moments was romanticized to a certain degree, but the hope it gave him morphed into oddly comforting promise. It was a vision which provided Hijikata an enduring faith; how he was destined to die would be as meaningful as the way he lived. A true warrior, he’d ride out into infinity, trailed by glittering tendrils of purpose and valor, of illustrious legacy and sung praises.  
  
And therefore…  
  
“ _Toshi._ ”  
  
…Therefore…  
  
“ _I’ve already made up my mind._ ”  
  
…as the protective threads of reverie violently unraveled and left his soul bare to an endless winter, the single acceptable conclusion he could draw was that the events transpiring now simply could not be real.  
  
“ _This is how it has to be._ ”  
  
For no nightmare so vivid, no delusion so irrational could have inspired him to consider the end might arrive like _this_ : standing paralyzed from a volatile cocktail of trepidation and panic, searching with despair the one person incapable of making him feel such a way. And yet…  
  
Kondo’s mouth had indeed moved. That command, forceful and impersonal, had undoubtedly come from him. And Hijikata knew without hesitation exactly what it meant.  
  
The commander had signed his own death sentence. But what Kondo hadn’t realized was that his willing sacrifice, though made with only the best of intentions, would come at a cost of more than his own life.  
  
It would destroy Hijikata’s as well.

“…You’re… _ordering_ me…?”  
  
The universe ticked in confounding ways. Half a minute ago, Hijikata was the person he knew himself to be: unyielding, in control, spilling brash combative demands to quell an outrageous suggestion. But all it had taken was the span of thirty seconds to flip his entire world to ruin, to understand the suggestion _wasn’t_ a suggestion, and have himself pushed into a place where he couldn’t bear to finish that inquiry. Anguish– _incredulity_ –colored the tremble in his tone so openly that his own voice sounded alien.  
  
His brows twitched, a muted response to the anomalous cadence of unrecognized speech.  
  
“Toshi…” The piercing severity that had transformed Kondo’s perpetual warm eyes lessened and the corners of his lips hinted upward to a familiar smile of resignation. “The commander’s orders are absolute, aren’t they?”  
  
Of all the things that could have been spoken, that he’d chosen to say _that_ …  
  
Hijikata’s shoulders dropped as his lungs forced the breath from his chest.  
  
It was as if Kondo hadn’t missed a beat, however–like he hadn’t just lit the match that was destined to burn the entirety of what they cherished and all they’d relentlessly worked for to a sea of ashes. His demeanor once more assumed its characteristic gentleness, the shift so _like_ him and yet entirely out of place under these circumstances.  
  
The fine needlework that had stitched together the lives of commander and vice commander for so long had begun to tear along an unbreakable seam. And still, as the threads ruptured and split off one-by-one, Kondo remained entirely calm, impassive.

It had one meaning. His volition was sincere and his intentions impervious to outside influence.  
  
Horrified, Hijikata merely riveted while Kondo’s quiet smile inched further outward to his cheeks. His lashes fell with a single shake of the head. “Besides, this isn’t goodbye. They won’t find out who I am.”  
  
The lie left his tongue without an inkling of falter—stately and resolute, as though the grace of daimyo blood had flowed through his veins since the moment of his birth. True to the part, Kondo stood tall and graceful with his shoulders back, painting a living portrait of unbreakable composure before the silent inward shattering of Hijikata’s ever-ardent fortitude.  
  
Rendered motionless, he for once could say nothing and could _do_ nothing, except watch in terror while a merciless reality ripped everything he held dear right from his grasp. The better parts of Hijikata’s years had been spent nurturing and sheltering the few things he treasured deeply, holding tight to keep them safe from harm and now…  
  
His breathing turned ragged as the reins of control escaped his fingertips, transient as open handfuls of sand in the wind. Every passing second brought an army of marching boots closer to this location, every moment chipping more and more away at an already crumbling foundation. And here even Kondo, the most important part of his life, had begun slipping from his reach too.  
  
Hijikata knew he should have fought back then—should have lashed out, used force, done anything at his disposal to prevent this situation from devolving further into madness. But in the face of such resolve (“Real warriors never go back on their word,” Kondo always said), his lips only trembled, his lashes remaining parted wide and unblinking.  
  
The decree was final. Kondo had given him a direct order. And as vice commander, it was Hijikata’s sworn duty to obey.  
  
A promise made long ago beneath a different sky thrummed through the passages of time to reverberate within the present. “ _I will follow you anywhere, Kat-chan. The commander’s word is absolute. Remember that._ ”  
  
_The commander_ _’_ _s orders are absolute, aren_ _’_ _t they? Toshi._  
  
This…wasn’t the way things were meant to be; a life’s worth of loyalty and commitment had been vowed by him and to him. And while Hijikata affirmed his willingness to do anything, he’d never dreamed it would mean discarding Kondo into the razor jaws of Satcho at some backwater town, only to save himself.  
  
Novels could be written of their years together, of the perfect balance that had been effortlessly struck between them. It came naturally, Hijikata’s strictness and unwavering logical mindset wrapping themselves lovingly about Kondo’s flexibility and the turbulence of emotion which guided him. Their opposing natures filled the other’s gaps, making up for where each lacked to create one complete whole.  
  
Now, at the abrupt and tragic end of their heroic story, their roles reversed in the bat of an eyelash and the scale tipped out of equilibrium. Torn between the polarizing demands of responsibility and his heart, Hijikata found he barely recognized himself.  
  
Where was his guiding logic, the fierce intolerance that grounded him?  
  
For years he’d justified every action no matter how brutal for the greater good, and readily dirtied his hands to keep Kondo’s clean. He’d sentenced men to commit seppuku, went above and beyond the call of duty to secure the future of what they’d created.  
  
Hijikata’s role had never been easy and his ruthlessness not without personal consequence at night, when silence gripped him and there was too much time to reflect. However, it was his firm belief in the things the Shinsengumi represented that enabled him to carry on as he had.  
  
In that sense, the decision Kondo had arrived at was valid. His surrender would make the escape of the men remaining here more likely, and it was in the best interest of everyone for that to happen. Furthermore, it followed code; Hijikata had set the rule that there would be no exceptions, that preservation of the Shinsengumi took precedence over any individual’s life.  
  
But here, in this moment, he was on the cusp of a revelation. 

“ _Hijikata._ ” Five years ago, Serizawa’s scrutiny had bored through him. “ _Why the hell are you even here?_ ”

…Perhaps, it hadn’t been the prosperity and liveliness of their organization, or even the nationalism swelling his heart, which drove him to those lengths after all. 

“ _Ain’t it obvious?! If it takes a demon to secure his future, then a demon is what I’ll become._ ”

…Perhaps, it really had all been for Kondo.

Right from the start, Kondo had been important enough, special enough, for Hijikata to justify betting his entire life on. Just how far could an ambitious farmer’s son go in this world? How many glass ceilings of classism could he shatter, how many people just like them could be moved by his success?

Hijikata had wanted to know, had wanted to see it happen with his own eyes. He lived out his own dreams through Kondo, content to shun the limelight and enjoy their victories with the man he revered positioned front and center.  
  
If he was gone, what did anything mean? How could Hijikata continue on with half himself lost to a void, when the most important pieces of all were missing?  
  
He had no answers to any of these questions, but the moments were racing by and time was a luxury no one currently possessed.  
  
“ _Kondo-san_ ,” he finally managed to grate out, disciplined enough to still address him properly in the presence of Shimada and Yukimura.  
  
“It’s all right.” The apathy with which Kondo conducted himself remained unprecedented. “Even if they see through it, my hatamoto status means they can’t kill me easily.”  
  
Before Hijikata could begin to point out how ridiculous a statement that was, Kondo lifted his chin and gazed past him. “Shimada-kun, please escape with Toshi. You and Yukimura-kun, split up and inform the remainder of the men here to meet at the back gate. Make it quick.”  
  
Shimada’s exasperation was palpable. “ _Commander_!”  
  
“That’s also an order.” Kondo’s insistence succeeded in remaining soft but carried with it a clear message that his resolution wouldn’t be deterred. “My capture means nothing if you’re taken too. Go. I’ll be down to see you off right away.”  
  
Though Shimada had been standing behind him and out of sight, Hijikata could tell how tightly his teeth were gritted from his response. “…Sir.”  
  
“Yukimura-kun.” Kondo nodded at her next. “Please help.”  
  
“Yes.” Her reply was hushed, but the heartache it carried resounded deeply through the air. “…Commander.”  
  
The hurried pattering of footsteps followed immediately when they descended the stairs in haste, and for the final time, Hijikata found himself alone with the man he was incapable of parting from.  
  
Exhaling, Kondo’s shoulders fell after the pair disappeared and then he stepped forward. “Toshi.”  
  
”Why?” Barely above a whisper, Hijikata’s voice retained impressive control against the silent hysteria battering him raw, and he at last broke free from the entrapment of his shock-induced prison. A palm lifted to cup his mouth and he let his head fall for but a moment to steady himself. Still, when his hand slid away again, the words poured out unbridled with emotion. “This isn’t like you. You’re _commanding_ me to—”  
  
Kondo’s movement stole the breath from his lips. Strong arms tugged Hijikata into an embrace, familiar warmth enveloping him in the silent comfort it always managed to provide. Inundated by the scent he loved most, Hijikata felt fingertips press to the base of his neck and slide up through his short locks, encouraging him to press his forehead unto a willing broad shoulder.  
  
He relented.  
  
“Ne, Toshi…” Kondo’s voice was low and soothing, as he kept one arm wrapped firmly around him while continuing to caress his hair. “It’s enough already.” Hijikata drew a choppy inhale. “You’ve run yourself ragged for years on end trying to spread my renown and now you’ve even become a rasetsu.” The stroking ceased. “…It hurts so much to see you like this.”  
  
While Hijikata made no move to lift his face, his hands finally raised. Digits pressed firmly into the material of Kondo’s haori and curled in, until he had fistfuls in his grasp. “What I’ve done…” His voice shook. “It’s torn at your heart.”  
  
“No, that’s—”  
  
“Become samurai and serve the Shogunate,” Hijikata interjected, “Earn our honor, make something of ourselves…” His grip tightened. “I thought we could be happy together once we did that. Was I wrong?”  
  
He could feel Kondo’s frame slouch, then a nudge of the chin pressed just above his ear. “I’m so sorry. I did this to you, didn’t I? I pushed you to these lengths.”  
  
Hijikata’s head snapped up. “ _Don’t_. I was the one—”  
  
“You were wrong.”  
  
His lashes parted a little wider at the softness Kondo wore in his expression, at the return of a smile both sad and gentle. The hand that had held the back of his head came forward and pressed to his cheek.

Beneath them, a stampede of boots began pounding the lower floorboards in quick succession.

“Toshi…” Kondo’s brows drew inward, his expression tightening as he gave Hijikata’s face a tender shake. “I was already happy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks for reading!! <3333
> 
> Hang out with me on tumblr: [kondo-hijikata](http://kondo-hijikata.tumblr.com)


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